


Death

by Mooseknucklesss



Series: Mind of a Man: Draco Malfoy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Study, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, Light Angst, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooseknucklesss/pseuds/Mooseknucklesss
Summary: Part 2 of Mind of a Man. Can be read as a stand alone ficlet. Warnings for grief and minor character death.





	Death

Draco steadied himself against a strong gust of wind and flicked his wand to strengthen the Impervious charm holding the rain from his eyes and cloak. The howl of the North Sea drowning out the man in white robes in front of him. The words being recited sounded as if they were traveling through cotton.

“Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other…” The officiator recited yet Draco could only replay those few lines in his head.

 _‘Whatever we were to each other’._  Those words flowed in and out of his ears. Whatever we were to each other. There was so much he could attach to those simple lines. He looked down at the coffin hovering slightly above the perfect rectangle of earth.  _‘Death is nothing at all.’_ Was it truly that way when it was your own father?

Lucius had spent the last 5 years in Azkaban for his crimes during the second wizarding war. He hadn’t been pardoned like Draco and his mother, thanks to Potter’s testimony. But Draco could not regret being free. He _would_ not let himself regret being free.

Draco had realized shortly after his trial that the man he wanted to be was not the man his father raised him to be. Not to be contrary for contrary’s sake, the man that Lucius had wanted him to be was dead, like he himself. He guessed that when put that way it would be crass, but he had to be honest with himself.

He did not hate Lucius though. He loved him like any son would love his own father, but he could admit to himself that Lucius was not as great a man that he made himself to be in Draco’s eyes. He would also guess that some would say that sentiment was bitterness, but it wasn’t that simple. It was disappointment that lingered in his heart in regards to his father. 

Disappointment in how his father let his own desire for power, whether through bribery or following a mad man to his own destruction, put his own family in danger. Draco could readily admit his own role that he played, he would not unnecessarily blame his father for that. But the man he grew up to believe in, the man he thought would protect him, the man he thought valued his family above all else…That was the image that he had to come to terms with, the man he was not.

He knew that his father loved him. Lucius would give him the world, but the world wasn’t what he needed. He needed reassurance, not cold expectations. He needed boundaries that would let him grow to be confident in his own decision making, not to become a miniature parrot of his father’s rhetoric. Now as an adult he realizes that he was not really given a chance to believe otherwise than what his father told him was truth. 

Draco felt an unusually soft hand grasp his own which brought him out of his reverie. He looked down to see his mother curling elegantly into his side, overwhelmed by grief yet dignified. He hadn’t really given much thought to how his mother must feel about his father’s death, too overwhelmed by the misplaced emotions he felt within himself.

Narcissa always stayed by Lucius’ side, for reasons that Draco himself could only speculate. Their love was a quiet love. One that never needed ostentatious gestures or overly sappy words. He never thought to ask her why she stayed, knowing that the family could lose not only their credibility but their lives. He never asked her if she was overwrought with disappointment or bitterness or fear by following her husband into the shadows of a war. Those were things he didn’t think he would understand.

He tightened his hold on his mother’s hand for a brief second. She was all that he had now, in all sense of the word. His mother had been a pillar of strength and grace since the end of the war. She had encouraged him to be comfortable in who he is, always be honest with himself, but never let others think that he is less than he deserves. Narcissa held herself tall even under scrutiny and scorn from the general wizarding population. He couldn’t be more proud to be her son.

Yet, in a way he was also still proud to be Lucius’ son. Regardless of how his father chose to direct his family, he still made mistakes like any human. Like Draco. They all made mistakes, whether they were children or adults. He could not damn his father for cocking up the quiet dignity of the Malfoy name. He could be dissatisfied, yes, but Draco also has the power to move forward. There will be things he could never tell his father now, there would never be a time where he could truly hear Lucius tell him that he was proud of the man that Draco had become. But surprisingly, that was ok. 

There were things that he felt like he didn’t need to justify to anybody. His confidence in himself was earned this time around. It was his gift to himself. One that his father, even the part that loved Draco, could never truly give him. It was hard to come to terms to that. He thought too long that he owed his father his newfound self awareness, but he didn’t think that was something Lucius would have the ability to see as a gift and not an insult. His disenchantment of his father was only truth, but so was his unconditional love for this misguided man.

“All is well. Nothing is past; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!” The officiator recited, ending the ceremony with a blessing and lowering the coffin into the ground. Draco put a comforting arm around his mother’s slender shoulder as she rested her head on his, sniffling quietly. He kissed the top of her before they turned around to depart from the shores of Azkaban.

Just as they were ready to apparate back to the Manor, a figure standing far behind them caught his eye. The man walked slowly, powerfully, toward them and he recognized exactly who it was. _Potter_.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” He said quietly to Narcissa, her hand softly placed in Potter’s. “Thank you, Mr Potter.” his mother replied graciously. Potter turned himself to Draco with a nod. “I don’t know what it’s truly like to lose a father, but I’m sorry for your loss as well Malfoy” Potter said in a frank yet solemn tone, with clear green eyes. Draco only blinked. He didn’t know why Potter was sharing this sentiment knowing that on multiple occasions his father tried to kill the Boy Who Lived.

“You never liked him,” Draco replied bluntly but without much heat. “I didn’t,” Potter agreed, “But you’re not him.” was all he said before nodding his farewell to him and his mother before silently apparating away, leaving Draco slightly confused and a bit flustered. He looked back one more time at his fathers grave, bidding a silent goodbye before hugging his mother and apparating home.

_**‘Death is nothing at all’** _


End file.
